


Worth it

by Ghelik



Series: The 100 Fics [9]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 3x15, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Big Brother Bellamy, Feels, Gen, because I love kicking puppies and stuff, unbetad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8431621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghelik/pseuds/Ghelik
Summary: His team is overpowered and dragged all the way to the throne room.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this tumblr prompt by @forgivenessishardforus  
> "Okay but imagine:  
> Bellamy, Octavia, Miller, and Bryan weren’t captured in Polis before they could go after Clarke. Imagine they made it all the way to the top of the tower, even to the throne room, before the guards caught up to them and subdued them.  
> Imagine them being held captive in a corner of the room while Clarke’s tied to the chair, imagine Bellamy having to watch as Abby slices into Clarke’s skin with a scalpel, imagine him fighting to get free, to get to her.  
> And then imagine his reaction when Clarke doesn’t give in, and Abby says, “Her friends are her weakness. Start with Bellamy Blake.” Imagine him witnessing Clarke’s tears, her look of absolute terror. Imagine him trying to explain that to himself: that Clarke cries more at the thought of him being hurt than she did while being tortured by her own mother.  
> And imagine the looks that would pass between them when the guards hand him over."

Bellamy never thought his sister being too angry with him to stay in the same room as he would end up saving his life. But it’s only because she can’t stand by his side that she spots the chipped before they have time to rush his team. He sees his little sister efficiently take down six men twice her size and that part of him that’s extremely proud of everything she does swells a little.

  
They kick their way out of their hiding spot and into the tunnel system that led them to the elevator the first time they were in Polis.

  
His skin itches when he sees the elevator shaft and the thousand steps he had to mount last time he was here. The whole memory frequently features as one of his less horrible nightmares. What does it say of him that Echo’s betrayal and the loss of… of Mount Weather are among the least terrible things that have happened to him?

  
"We better take the stairs," he tells Miller, Bryan, and Octavia. It’s better than risking being trapped in a tiny box.

  
Octavia shoulders past him and starts on the ladder, Miller gives him a sympathetic look but says nothing, and he’s not sure what Bryan’s expression means, but he tries to ignore the way it feels like pity.

  
The wound in his thigh pulses with the memory of that ladder. It hadn’t healed when he mounted them the first time, and after that, he never got to tend to it properly. Most of the time the limp is so slight most people don’t notice. But when the weather changes suddenly or when it’s cold, the pain that shoots up his leg is enough to leave him momentarily gasping for breath. It’ll get better, he supposes. It’s not like he’s had much time to see a doctor. Not a doctor that he trusts enough to speak about it, at least.

  
He pushes it all down and starts climbing after Bryan, bringing up the rear. And if he’d rather be at their front, he’s glad he can slow down a bit when they’re halfway up.

  
They burst through the elevator doors at the top of the ladder to a horde of chipped. They’re outmanned, and it takes the chipped an embarrassingly small amount of time to overpower his team. They’re restrained, their weapons confiscated and then dragged towards the throne room.

  
Miller looks stoically ahead, walking with his shoulders thrown back and hard eyes. He looks old. Bellamy remembers him as a seventeen-year-old kid. A happy boy that wanted to be good make his father proud. He wasn’t a soldier when Bellamy met him. He was a kleptomaniac, ashamed of it most of the time. Bellamy remembers their first weeks on the ground, how Miller would go around returning random stuff he had stolen from the other delinquents. He remembers how he shuffled and squirmed the first time he took Bellamy’s ax.

  
God, how he misses those times!

  
Octavia presses her lips and struggles against her bonds until one of the chipped gives her a blow to the head that has her falling uncoordinatedly to the ground. Bellamy’s heart stops. He lurches forward, but there are three chipped holding him back. Octavia stirs and blinks, but lets herself be dragged to the room. When she catches his eye, she scowls and stares at him.

  
He’s still looking at her, at how she’s trying to groggily regain her footing, stubborn and proud as always when he himself is pushed into the room. It takes Bellamy a moment to take in the room, because they throw him by his sister’s side and no matter how much she hates him, he can’t stop himself from inspecting her head as best he can with his arms securely tied to his back.

  
She growls at him, but it’s only half-hearted. Then her eyes skirt away from him, and she stiffens staring back at him with wide, terrified eyes. The look is gone a second later, but it’s enough for him to turn, body tense and ready to protect what’s left of his people – protect his sister – no matter the cost.

  
The room is much like he remembers – less crowded- sunlight is streaming through tall floor-to-ceiling glassless windows, which throw the dark antlers of the throne into stark contrast. Ex-Chancellor Jaha, Chancellor Abby Griffin and a grounder he doesn’t know, who, judging by her garb, is probably Ontari, stand around the room. There are guards at the doors. Which makes it – without counting the eight people that a guarding his team – seven chipped against only four of them.

  
He’s making the math- planning a way of escaping or completing the mission when his brain finally registers the wooden pole at the foot of the steps that lead to the high chair.

  
And the person strapped to it.

 

Blood freezes in his veins.

 

Clarke is looking at him with wide, wide blue eyes.

 

Bellamy was supposed to rescue her. Instead, he let her down. He would drop his gaze in shame, but he can’t stop looking at her. For now, she’s still alive. He has to remember that. As long as they’re alive, they can fight their way out of this. There has to be a way. Fifteen against five, he can make it work. He only has to find a way.

  
Chancellor Griffin pulls Clarke’s face to the side so that she is looking at her mother instead of at him. That’s good, maybe Clarke can distract the chipped.

  
"What’s the passphrase, Clarke," says the Chancellor.

  
"Please don’t let them do this," whispers Clarke. Something about the pleading weeping tone sounds so wrong.

  
"What’s the passphrase, Clarke?"

  
There is a thin chirurgical blade in Chancellor Griffin’s hand. He recognizes it only because Clarke was so fucking happy when one of the raiding parties finally found some of those in good condition on their third week on earth.

  
For a moment Bellamy’s rendered stupid. His mind cannot process the presence of that blade in the hand of Clarke’s mother.

  
Then the blade plunges into Clarke’s chest, and he feels sick to his stomach. He lurches forward, but he’s overpowered and can only watch as that knife cuts a second time into her chest.

  
"You can stop it, Clarke," says Jaha. Bellamy hates him. "Just tell us what we need to know."

  
For a moment that seems like the most logical way to go about things. A part of him wants for her to tell them, just be done with this shit. That part of him is currently fighting against the grip of the chipped and screaming inside his brain for them to stop. The other part of him knows that it won’t happen. Clarke won’t give in, and that is good, A.L.I.E. needs to be stopped, this weird City of Light thing that has taken over Skaikru and grounders alike, that has killed so many people and hurt so many more, has to be stopped. That part of him is what keeps his mouth shut.

  
"I told you." Abby Griffin turns away from Clarke to look at the empty space behind her. "Her friends are her weakness."

  
Bellamy stops fighting.

 

Octavia! Miller! Bryan!

 

He won’t let them. He’ll bite their heads off if they try to touch them! He won’t let any of his people die! Not like this!

 

Chancellor Griffin turns back to her daughter, and there is something like mirth in the tightness of her eyes.

 

"Start with Bellamy Blake."

  
Relief washes over him.

 

He can work with that. Then he sees Clarke’s eyes. She’s looking at him now, eyes wide, pupils’ just tiny pinpricks and a single tear rolling down her cheek, her lips tremble, and her brow’s furrowed.

  
They drag him forward, her terrified eyes tracking the movement.

 

Bellamy wants to tell her that’s fine. He understands. She’s stronger than he is. She’ll find a way. He tries for a smile, tries for cocky and his heart breaks when Clarke starts thrashing, begging and pulling at her restraints.

 

"Hey!" he tells her, and it hurts, but he forces a smile to stay on his face. He tries for relaxed and calm for her sake. He wishes he could tell her to look after Octavia for him. But she doesn’t need that; she needs to stay strong. "It’s worth it."

  
"NO! I AM SORRY! I WAS WRONG! IT’S NOT!"

  
He doesn’t feel the knife until is three inches deep and tearing through his guts.

**Author's Note:**

> As always this was unbetad.  
> Thanks for reading and commenting.


End file.
